Chivalry Is Not Dead
by CeliaEquus
Summary: There's a slight problem with the Captain America costume, and Stephanie Rogers is not best pleased about it. Neither, for that matter, is Phil Coulson. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this. Always a girl!Steve. Capsicoul! Pre-relationship.


"Chivalry Is Not Dead"

Stephanie Rogers chewed her lower lip as she studied herself in the mirror. She'd just slipped into the new Captain America uniform that SHIELD had designed for her, the one Agent Coulson had told her about. It was pretty neat; it made her feel nostalgic, without worsening the ache she already felt for her own time, and the continued theme of the Stars and Stripes reminded her of what she was fighting for.

"It's just…" She trailed off, turning once again, and studying the back of the outfit. Sure, it zipped all the way up, but… Butt. That was the problem. She sighed. "If this is the future, I'm not sure staying in the ice wasn't the better option."

No one replied. It was alright to be alone at the moment, safe in the changing room. She could even ignore the security cameras on the walls. They were there to keep people safe, after all, and the guards promised to turn them off unless she called for help. (Even after all these years, men still assumed she was a damsel in distress.)

It was when she ventured outside. The costume covered her, sure; but it was so close-fitting that it was indecent, at least by her standards.

Nevertheless, she didn't take on the serum because she was a coward; so she opened the door, stuck her head out, and checked. No one was coming. She forced the rest of herself into the corridor, and began to walk towards the bridge of the Helicarrier.

As she began to pass people, however, she noticed the stares lingering on her. She'd experienced them often enough after she went through the super soldier project. They were the kind of stares she'd always wanted from Bucky, who instead always thought of her as a kid sister. But she didn't know these people, didn't like them. Their gazes just felt wrong, especially when said gazes focussed on her… rear end.

She blushed, and hurried past, glad that at least she was very nearly flat-chested; no bouncing on that front, unlike some of the girls in the USO shows.

Rushing around the corner, she ran into a solid chest, and nearly fell backwards. Sure, she was strong, and could be as solid as any man; but at the moment she was distressed, and not really paying attention to her surroundings.

Her cheeks reddened further when she recognised Coulson.

"Agent," she said, nodding.

"Are you all right, Captain Rogers?"

"I'm, uh, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" She nodded again, hastily. "How's the uniform?"

Stephanie looked down, rocking slightly on her heels. "It's good."

"You look great." She glanced up. He seemed flustered. "You know, it suits you. I'm glad it turned out okay. It fits?"

Remembering that he was one of the designers, she frowned. "It fits just fine, thank you for asking."

Coulson's eyebrows drew together, and he looked her up and down. It wasn't like the looks other people gave her; this one was appraising, without heat or lust, as though he was a scientist studying… whatever scientists studied these days. "I can't see any problems."

"Can't you?" she asked. For some reason, she was suddenly annoyed. "You should know, after all; you designed it."

"I just had some input," he said, his cheeks turning pink. "I have the cards, so they were using those, and I had to stay to make sure nothing happened to them… What's the problem?"

"Take a look," she said, and she turned slowly enough for him to get the full effect. When she was finally facing him again, she saw just how red his face had gone, and she felt some little satisfaction in making him blush. He deserved it.

Then she realised that it wasn't entirely embarrassment.

"I never authorised this," he said. "Measurements were taken while you were asleep, by female agents. I checked them against your army records, and they were practically the same. There's no way you would have grown that much since then, especially in… certain areas." So there was some embarrassment, judging by the way he couldn't look at her when he said that. But his eyes met hers again. "I am so sorry, Captain Rogers. I will fix this immediately."

Not 'I will have this fixed' or 'someone will fix it'. He would, and he was going to do it now. Her anger drained away. "Thank you, Agent Coulson."

"Not a problem. Come with me. We'll go back to the dressing room. Hold on," he said, stopping her before she could turn away. "Here." And he pulled off his jacket and helped her slip into it. "I know it won't do much in the way of cover, but—"

"It's perfect," she mumbled. So much for her blush abating. "Thank you."

"Like I said, it's not a problem."

* * *

"Did anyone fix it?" Coulson asked hoarsely as soon as he pulled the breathing mask off. Stephanie stared at him.

"Fix what?" she said.

"Your costume. I was chewing out the costume-makers when… when the attack happened. Shame I never finished it. Would've been a hell of a speech."

"Oh, enough of it was recorded for Stark to play it to me later," Stephanie said. She smiled shyly. "You're my hero, Agent Coulson."

"Phil."

"Phil," she whispered. "Call me Steph."

"I'd like that." His eyes were kind of bleary; he was on an awful lot of pain meds. She wondered how much of this he really meant, and how much he'd remember.

"They've, uh, they've altered it. Not the design, though. You were partly right; they did mess up the measurements, but it's also a clingy fabric, so it's not all their fault."

"You're too nice," he said, tapping the bed with his index finger. "You were in the army; still so naïve."

She shrugged. "It can't just be me. Most men like women with bigger…" She had to force herself to say the word. "Breasts."

Now she could go and die of mortification somewhere else. Phil just laughed weakly.

"You're perfect," he said. "Bravest person I know. Gorgeous eyes. Inspiration to everyone." He had to take a few breaths. "Sure you're all kinds of other greats. I just don't know you well enough to… But your eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen."

Stephanie looked down, cheeks going pink. "Most people would say something about the rest of my body."

"If you were a guy instead, it would be everyone else drooling over you. It's just worse for women because it's a pat… a patri… a man's world." He looked frustrated. "Stupid meds."

She giggled, and stopped as soon as he flinched. "I'm sorry. You're just so adorable when you look like that. Anytime, actually. I…" She stopped before she could humiliate herself any further. Phil tilted his head.

"You what?" he asked mildly.

"I'm glad you're okay. When we thought you were dead… I don't know how I got through Manhattan the way I did."

"You didn't need any motivation. I haven't worked with you, or Banner. You fought because it was the right thing to do."

"I fought because I realised that I wasn't being the hero Dr. Erskine wanted me to be, that Bucky and Peggy wanted me to be. Heck, that Howard wanted me to be. You got hurt because I wasn't vigilant enough; I was too busy arguing with Howard's son. You're… you're the reason I went into battle again."

Stephanie sat back, uncomfortable now that her short speech was over. Phil's eyelids were already drooping. He'd been awake long enough; it was only now that she realised she probably should have called a doctor or nurse to let them know he was finally awake.

(And the first thing he did was ask about my costume, she thought.)

"Always been my heroine," he mumbled, eyes starting to close. They opened again sharply when she slid her slightly smaller hand underneath his, resting on the sheets.

"I'll be your guardian angel this time, if you let me," she said. "I can stay here with you."

"Please," he whispered, and he finally fell asleep.

Stephanie smiled, pulled her chair forward a little, and watched over her hero.

* * *

**I don't know how this went from a tight suit to a fluffy, mutual appreciation society ending, but whatever.**

**My first foray into gender-bending; and, of course, I would experiment with Steve. *Shakes head* For shame, Gracie, for shame…**


End file.
